19, almost like me!
Everyday there is something new to learn. Yesterday I learned how to use my imagination, even though I am almost nineteen. The little one I baby-sit, Aliona, decided that we should have a snowball fight. Of course, being that it was eighty degrees out, and the beginning of June, I asked how this was possible. She merely looked at the kitchen floor and started pretending to ball snow that was nonexistent. Then she wanted to make snow angels, and so we did. I made “big” ones, and she made “little” ones, as I am much bigger than she is. We did things yesterday I had forgotten how to do: we pretended that the fire place was a tall tree, and that Simba, her lion, was stuck at the top. We pretend-called the fire department to save him on my cell phone, and then I made siren noises as the invisible trucks pulled up to the pretend tree. We talked to Mr. Frog and invited him to be our friend and to play with us, however he didn’t seem interested. We played with a worm, and we enjoyed the swimming of the tadpoles. Tadpoles, I think, are quite interesting to watch for elongated periods of time.
Today, Mary and I have learned a great many things as well. I’ve learned that the bowling alley does not open until four p.m. I learned that the ice cream place doesn’t open until twelve thirty, I’ve learned that the merry-go-round can make you uber dizzy and sick, I have learned that sometimes, medal slides are NOT hot. I’ve learned that Mary is amazing at Monopoly. And that to try to beat her means ultimate defeat. I learned that going through the sprinkler is about the best thing you could possibly do. I have learned that walking through the sprinkler is even better. I’ve learned you shouldn’t drink two cups of coffee on an empty stomach isn’t a good idea. Today has been a day of knowledge. I have learned more things today then I think I learned at college. At least, more useful things.
Clothes lines are good for the soul. If I’ve learned one thing in the past two days, that would be it. Hanging up clothes on a line, letting them dry, then pulling them back in again and folding them as you pull them down is an amazing feeling that I had forgotten how much I missed. Although I had always associated the clothes line with chores that made my days sad and upsetting, I am now regretful of feeling that way, for clothes lines really ease any tension within your life, whatsoever.
Saturday night brought a fun time with my movie buddy. We saw a funny one that was good enough for eight dollars, and we laughed through it, which made my soul dance. After that we headed to the center of the city.
“What do you want to do?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’d like to be reading a book.”
“Oh, thanks. Let me just go home and you can go read.”
“No…I mean. I’d like to walk around with you.”
Several minutes later I found myself enthralled with his way of knowing exactly what I wanted.
“Hey, Jen, do you want to go into Borders?”
“No…”
“Jen, do you want to go into Borders?”
“No…”
“Do you want to?”
“We’ll never come out…”
“Let’s go.”
I followed him in, and as he headed to find the section that tickled his fancy I picked out the first book I saw with an interesting cover. Luckily for me, it was also an interesting one about my city, Boston. I swung my arm in his, ready to be lead along while I read. After he started browsing, I came across a word I did not know, and began my quest for the reference section. As they changed the floor plan of the store, it took me a little while. I felt like it was a sign from God. I had been in that store millions of times with my lost love, and I felt as though God had realized that going into this book store would be painful to me. As an avid book lover, I believe God timed the changing of the floor plan of the store just for me, so that old memories would not be aroused as I traveled through time in space in my favorite books. Although some say that God might not micromanage our world, I believe that he was certainly looking out for me.
Traveling further, I became aware that the reference books were no longer on the first floor. To the second floor, still reading, I found the dictionaries and settled for the Oxford. Heading back downstairs I found my breathing buddy carefully picking out titles and reading the comments or backs, only to be annoyed and put them carefully back onto the shelves. I settled myself down on the floor next to him, and began the twenty-five pages of Anna’s life. Using the dictionary often was helpful, as Anna’s profession was cytology. As I read, I was periodically interrupted by his grumblings and his explanations about certain things. As the store was closing we were finally persuaded to leave the store-but not before writing the book’s title and author down for safe keeping.
“Did you just leave your books over there?”
“Yes, why?”
“You’re awful.”
We walked around the corner and through the arcade, back to the car. On our way back to his, the phone rang, and my lovely Kelly Sue was on the other end.
“Where are you?” I asked, wondering why a call came so late on a Saturday.
“On State street near the highway, at Max’s house, for the party!”
“We’re on State street near the highway!” After a U-turn (oh, lovely Volvo) we traversed to the Latin party, where I immediately saw him.
“John Marshall?!”
“Jennie Palluzzi?!”
I scrambled for the back door, quickly forgetting my reading partner and the evening’s events. After a huge hug and a chat about my family, we discussed his future plans. After that it was time for some lovin’ from my hot-tub buddy, and some surface chatter with the girls previously known as Interact members. It was good to see them all again, especially my west-coast buddy who I hadn’t seen since Christmas. The party certainly was a hit. We stayed for an hour, just talking to people, catching up, introducing him, all the while perfectly enjoying my placement. After watching Kelly Sue become intoxicated, most safely, of course, and helping in an effort to get David Widmayer belligerent, my reading buddy and I were ready to head out. The car ride to the interstate was silent, mainly on my part because I was slightly annoyed by the interest in people that I had known for years. At the car, we switched places after a hug, and the night ended. Of course, the night was not really over, but for all intents and purposes of making this a story worth reading in which the readers enjoy the main character, feel for her, and cherish her every move and effort in life, we’ll stop there. (We never like to give the reader a main character they can learn to stop forgiving.) Although, as my reading buddy knows, I was truly sorry for the rest of the events that took place that night, as sometimes I can do stupid things that are particularly unintelligent of me. So, to that reading-buddy, I do apologize, once again.
Sunday was a day of rest. Or, shall I say of beach. Onward to the fabulous Silver Lake with my birthday buddy and Aliona and Mara. We all swam for hours, with three trips to the potty, one trip the swings, one run on the slide, and one search for frogs and fish on the dock. Although the children were soundly lathered with sunscreen, my birthday buddy and I felt above such things, which resulted in some sunburn at the end of the day.
“You guys, we need to remember the rule. What can we do near the water?”
“Hold hands.”
“That’s right. Or we can wear our…”
“Swimmies! (Or Floaties, depending on which screaming child you were listening to.)
Another rule for the afternoon, “And we have to wear sunscreen. Remember why?”
“Why, Jennie?”
“Because the sun will hurt you sometimes if you don’t wear sunscreen.”
“No, Jennie, the sun no hurt us.”
“Well, the heat will.”
“Yes. Yes, Jennie, heat hot. Will hurt us.”
So we spent our Sunday adding and removing swimmies (or floaties) about six times, each time nearly dislocating someone’s arm because of the heat and the uneasy sliding of the swim aids. On the ride home, both girls fell asleep, but not before Ali explained in her loud voice, “Jennie! We both very tired. We tired Jennie!” Arriving back, Mara slept until I left. Peace in the house had finally come.
A Monday brought some bike riding with Emma and then an afternoon with Aliona, watching much TV as the day before had wiped us both out. The TV was a good thing to focus ourselves on, with my nodding off and her unending energy slightly curved because of Pooh Bear.
“Ali, stop climbing on me.”
“I not Ali, I Christopher Robin. And you Eeorye.”
The day finally ended with errands run and gas filled, and home I went to some ice cream and a best friend. The power had been turned back on since the storm the night before had knocked it out, and the house seemed somewhat at peace. After some soul-searching and a little bit of organization, I was ready to settle down. Kelly Sue’s house was a good stop, seeing some of my Saline buddies again and smiling at a message from my reading partner. “We haven’t really talked since Saturday.” Then a quick call to my private-college buddy about my birthday, and a ride home listening to the same song twice in a row.
“Is this the same song we just listened to?”
“Yes, I know that you hate when I do that. But I really like this song.”
“I do hate when you do that, but I don’t even know this song.”
Arriving home, checking the messages and attempting to carry a stairs worth of junk up the stairs. Then there I was, just a girl on the verge of another birthday, enjoying the night’s sky and thinking about the day and what it had brought. Another day of this wonderous summer has gone by and I find myself realizing that each day is another one to look forward to. The cut of on my mirror reads, “Today is the Day.” And I feel like every day is the day. A day for a new friend, a new hobby. A new accomplishment. More pages written, more pages read. More lines sung, more lines written in iambic pentameter. Another phrase coined, another letter mailed. Another phone call made, another new useless fact learned. Another piece of my heart healed, and another one built to love everyone more and more. Another moment completely savored, myself being ecstatic about the life I lead and how lucky I am to live in it. Another note sang outloud, another line read. Four new books read, each six pages long with numerous picture breaks. Another episode of Dora watched, and another memory with some children I adore spending time with. Another worn in sandal, another new skirt, another effort to match perfectly. Another cup of coffee, another turkey sandwich, and another day I can say to myself, “I’ve done it. I’ve made it through another day living, happy, and well, and I’ve done it because I am faithful that this, where I am in my life at this current moment, is where I am meant to be.” So here I go, following what I am told, putting myself wholly into everything I do, waiting for the right moment to catch the opportunities I get handed every day. To catch the right one and watch it catch fire and spread across my life, bettering my soul and my heart, preparing me for the world.
Today, Mary and I have learned a great many things as well. I’ve learned that the bowling alley does not open until four p.m. I learned that the ice cream place doesn’t open until twelve thirty, I’ve learned that the merry-go-round can make you uber dizzy and sick, I have learned that sometimes, medal slides are NOT hot. I’ve learned that Mary is amazing at Monopoly. And that to try to beat her means ultimate defeat. I learned that going through the sprinkler is about the best thing you could possibly do. I have learned that walking through the sprinkler is even better. I’ve learned you shouldn’t drink two cups of coffee on an empty stomach isn’t a good idea. Today has been a day of knowledge. I have learned more things today then I think I learned at college. At least, more useful things.
Clothes lines are good for the soul. If I’ve learned one thing in the past two days, that would be it. Hanging up clothes on a line, letting them dry, then pulling them back in again and folding them as you pull them down is an amazing feeling that I had forgotten how much I missed. Although I had always associated the clothes line with chores that made my days sad and upsetting, I am now regretful of feeling that way, for clothes lines really ease any tension within your life, whatsoever.
Saturday night brought a fun time with my movie buddy. We saw a funny one that was good enough for eight dollars, and we laughed through it, which made my soul dance. After that we headed to the center of the city.
“What do you want to do?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’d like to be reading a book.”
“Oh, thanks. Let me just go home and you can go read.”
“No…I mean. I’d like to walk around with you.”
Several minutes later I found myself enthralled with his way of knowing exactly what I wanted.
“Hey, Jen, do you want to go into Borders?”
“No…”
“Jen, do you want to go into Borders?”
“No…”
“Do you want to?”
“We’ll never come out…”
“Let’s go.”
I followed him in, and as he headed to find the section that tickled his fancy I picked out the first book I saw with an interesting cover. Luckily for me, it was also an interesting one about my city, Boston. I swung my arm in his, ready to be lead along while I read. After he started browsing, I came across a word I did not know, and began my quest for the reference section. As they changed the floor plan of the store, it took me a little while. I felt like it was a sign from God. I had been in that store millions of times with my lost love, and I felt as though God had realized that going into this book store would be painful to me. As an avid book lover, I believe God timed the changing of the floor plan of the store just for me, so that old memories would not be aroused as I traveled through time in space in my favorite books. Although some say that God might not micromanage our world, I believe that he was certainly looking out for me.
Traveling further, I became aware that the reference books were no longer on the first floor. To the second floor, still reading, I found the dictionaries and settled for the Oxford. Heading back downstairs I found my breathing buddy carefully picking out titles and reading the comments or backs, only to be annoyed and put them carefully back onto the shelves. I settled myself down on the floor next to him, and began the twenty-five pages of Anna’s life. Using the dictionary often was helpful, as Anna’s profession was cytology. As I read, I was periodically interrupted by his grumblings and his explanations about certain things. As the store was closing we were finally persuaded to leave the store-but not before writing the book’s title and author down for safe keeping.
“Did you just leave your books over there?”
“Yes, why?”
“You’re awful.”
We walked around the corner and through the arcade, back to the car. On our way back to his, the phone rang, and my lovely Kelly Sue was on the other end.
“Where are you?” I asked, wondering why a call came so late on a Saturday.
“On State street near the highway, at Max’s house, for the party!”
“We’re on State street near the highway!” After a U-turn (oh, lovely Volvo) we traversed to the Latin party, where I immediately saw him.
“John Marshall?!”
“Jennie Palluzzi?!”
I scrambled for the back door, quickly forgetting my reading partner and the evening’s events. After a huge hug and a chat about my family, we discussed his future plans. After that it was time for some lovin’ from my hot-tub buddy, and some surface chatter with the girls previously known as Interact members. It was good to see them all again, especially my west-coast buddy who I hadn’t seen since Christmas. The party certainly was a hit. We stayed for an hour, just talking to people, catching up, introducing him, all the while perfectly enjoying my placement. After watching Kelly Sue become intoxicated, most safely, of course, and helping in an effort to get David Widmayer belligerent, my reading buddy and I were ready to head out. The car ride to the interstate was silent, mainly on my part because I was slightly annoyed by the interest in people that I had known for years. At the car, we switched places after a hug, and the night ended. Of course, the night was not really over, but for all intents and purposes of making this a story worth reading in which the readers enjoy the main character, feel for her, and cherish her every move and effort in life, we’ll stop there. (We never like to give the reader a main character they can learn to stop forgiving.) Although, as my reading buddy knows, I was truly sorry for the rest of the events that took place that night, as sometimes I can do stupid things that are particularly unintelligent of me. So, to that reading-buddy, I do apologize, once again.
Sunday was a day of rest. Or, shall I say of beach. Onward to the fabulous Silver Lake with my birthday buddy and Aliona and Mara. We all swam for hours, with three trips to the potty, one trip the swings, one run on the slide, and one search for frogs and fish on the dock. Although the children were soundly lathered with sunscreen, my birthday buddy and I felt above such things, which resulted in some sunburn at the end of the day.
“You guys, we need to remember the rule. What can we do near the water?”
“Hold hands.”
“That’s right. Or we can wear our…”
“Swimmies! (Or Floaties, depending on which screaming child you were listening to.)
Another rule for the afternoon, “And we have to wear sunscreen. Remember why?”
“Why, Jennie?”
“Because the sun will hurt you sometimes if you don’t wear sunscreen.”
“No, Jennie, the sun no hurt us.”
“Well, the heat will.”
“Yes. Yes, Jennie, heat hot. Will hurt us.”
So we spent our Sunday adding and removing swimmies (or floaties) about six times, each time nearly dislocating someone’s arm because of the heat and the uneasy sliding of the swim aids. On the ride home, both girls fell asleep, but not before Ali explained in her loud voice, “Jennie! We both very tired. We tired Jennie!” Arriving back, Mara slept until I left. Peace in the house had finally come.
A Monday brought some bike riding with Emma and then an afternoon with Aliona, watching much TV as the day before had wiped us both out. The TV was a good thing to focus ourselves on, with my nodding off and her unending energy slightly curved because of Pooh Bear.
“Ali, stop climbing on me.”
“I not Ali, I Christopher Robin. And you Eeorye.”
The day finally ended with errands run and gas filled, and home I went to some ice cream and a best friend. The power had been turned back on since the storm the night before had knocked it out, and the house seemed somewhat at peace. After some soul-searching and a little bit of organization, I was ready to settle down. Kelly Sue’s house was a good stop, seeing some of my Saline buddies again and smiling at a message from my reading partner. “We haven’t really talked since Saturday.” Then a quick call to my private-college buddy about my birthday, and a ride home listening to the same song twice in a row.
“Is this the same song we just listened to?”
“Yes, I know that you hate when I do that. But I really like this song.”
“I do hate when you do that, but I don’t even know this song.”
Arriving home, checking the messages and attempting to carry a stairs worth of junk up the stairs. Then there I was, just a girl on the verge of another birthday, enjoying the night’s sky and thinking about the day and what it had brought. Another day of this wonderous summer has gone by and I find myself realizing that each day is another one to look forward to. The cut of on my mirror reads, “Today is the Day.” And I feel like every day is the day. A day for a new friend, a new hobby. A new accomplishment. More pages written, more pages read. More lines sung, more lines written in iambic pentameter. Another phrase coined, another letter mailed. Another phone call made, another new useless fact learned. Another piece of my heart healed, and another one built to love everyone more and more. Another moment completely savored, myself being ecstatic about the life I lead and how lucky I am to live in it. Another note sang outloud, another line read. Four new books read, each six pages long with numerous picture breaks. Another episode of Dora watched, and another memory with some children I adore spending time with. Another worn in sandal, another new skirt, another effort to match perfectly. Another cup of coffee, another turkey sandwich, and another day I can say to myself, “I’ve done it. I’ve made it through another day living, happy, and well, and I’ve done it because I am faithful that this, where I am in my life at this current moment, is where I am meant to be.” So here I go, following what I am told, putting myself wholly into everything I do, waiting for the right moment to catch the opportunities I get handed every day. To catch the right one and watch it catch fire and spread across my life, bettering my soul and my heart, preparing me for the world.